


Special Pee Olympics

by LeggoxMyxGreggo



Category: Generation Kill
Genre: Drabble, Fluff, M/M, Multi, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-30
Updated: 2015-09-30
Packaged: 2018-04-24 03:09:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4903234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeggoxMyxGreggo/pseuds/LeggoxMyxGreggo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sleeping in the middle isn't so bad. Until you have to pee.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Special Pee Olympics

**Author's Note:**

> http://blastababy.tumblr.com/post/130192250693/gatisss-so-weve-decided-were-going-to-start  
> I blame this post for everything.

It's too early for this. The sun wasn't even up and there were still two bodies pressing against either side of him, which meant that it wasn't even time for Brad to get up for PT at his ungodly hours. Really, Nate was lucky that Ray got up to work out with him come 0630 in the morning. But back to the problem at hand, the problem being that his head was definitely pillowed on Brad's chest and there was still a lithe body pressed against his back and it probably wasn't even three in the morning yet and Ray was at least eighty percent positive that if he didn't find a way out of this tangle of limbs and clothes and too many blankets that he would either piss himself or be the first ever recorded case of an exploded bladder. Maybe not the first...he makes a mental note to look it up later when he didn't feel like he was in a race against his body.

There's an arm around his middle that belonged to Nate but pushing it back towards the man seemed to effectively pin Ray more snugly against Brad so no, that was definitely Brad's arm. The legs are even more of a struggle to untangle between the blankets and the two men who were both part octopus. Ray isn't even positive what legs belong to him any more. Giving up on whatever attempts there had been to remain subtle about getting up, Ray finally just shoulders Nate off of him and leaps from the bed. There's an undignified grunt from Brad that Ray will be sure to mock him for later once he was actually awake and no longer running the polygamist obstical course for sleeping in the middle and having to piss. 

They could build their own olympic sport based on this. It'd be a good idea to pitch. 

The lights sting his eyes as he flicks them on, not really feeling the whole, piss on the floor if he misses the toilette deal. His eyes aren't even adjusted before he's standing on the stupid toilette rug, dick in hand and pissing the best piss he's had in his life. And he's including every drunk or boot camp piss he's experienced. This one was top of the list.  
Finished, cleaned up and lights off, Ray pads back to the room, careful now that he can't really see where he's going after the hospital grade lighting of the bathroom compared to the pitch black of the bed room. His foot finds the edge of the bed and he curses. "Fucking piece of...fuck." 

"Josh. It's two in the morning." Brad's voice is thick with sleep and unamused and Ray bristles at the use of his first name outside of a wartime situation. "I could have pissed the bed if you'd rather. Didn't think you were in to that. Anything else you care to share? Cause that's definitely on the list of weird things but, ya know, I could possibly get down with it if it's somethin-"

A hand curls around his bicep, cutting off Ray's rambling about pissing on Brad and yeah, maybe it's too early in the morning for this but Brad totally started it by complaining about his getting up. The hand belongs to Nate, which Ray finds out when soft lips press tiredly against his own before he's being drawn back on to the bed. "Talk less, sleep more." The man mumbles as he's pushing Ray to lay back in the middle.

"That's what I was planning on before Bradley here was so kind as to enlighten us to his crazy fantasies at two in the morning. I can't help but think you could have tried planning that conversation a little better. Like, maybe when we're actually all up." Ray's honestly surprised that he gets the whole comment out without Brad or Nate shutting him up. Hell, his head is already pillowed once more on Brad's chest and the blankets are being fixed around them.

Long moments pass without any comment from the two men in the bed, Ray's just about positive that they had gone to sleep already. He was already close to it himself, eyes closed and body starting to relax against Nate's as he copies Brad's breathing. Then Brad speaks up, "stop projecting your strange fetishes on to everyone around you and talk about them like a big boy, Person." And it is so on. Ray narrows his eyes at the dark form of Brad, harrumphs as he digs an elbow in to the man's hip as minor payback.

As though reading his mind, Nate speaks up against his shoulder, "No one is going to be pissing on any one. It's unsanitary." 

So that plan was a no go. But what Nate doesn't know won't hurt him. "Not even in the shower." The former officer elaborates and Ray huffs once more. Another plan then, but it could wait until later. When the sun was up and the running was done and they were finished bickering about breakfast dishes and first dibs on showers. After he's tried talking them in to putting dimmer lights in the bathroom for late night pissing excursions so no one burned out their retinas and googled if its possible to have to pee so bad your bladder explodes. 

As a warm hand smoothes along his back and shoulders before fingers curl in to his short hair, Ray decides that maybe he can actually let this one slide. Just this once.

**Author's Note:**

> So I won't say that I'm back or promise very many new works but I can say I'm definitely not dead. Stressed and fucked up but not dead.


End file.
